Life Sucks: A Tale of Teenage Angst
by MyDogAteMyPenname
Summary: Hyperobservant Roxie Darling's life is in shambles. Her best friend was shipped away, she can't speak to her crush, and what's with Spot getting creepily friendly with her now? Oh, the angst! The drama! The new direction the author is taking!
1. ROOOOOOOOOOXIE!

DIS IS ME FOIST NEWSIE FIC! bows deeply to scattered applause Please don't be so hard on me. (Anyone who flames is FINGERS U.P.C!!!!!!!! uh...yeah don't ask) My fic is a sort of parody (or whatever you call something that goes by the same storyline of something else...) of the AWESOME Jessica Darling series, by Megan McCafferty. The books are called Sloppy Firsts and Second Helpings if you're interested. GO READ IT. Anyways, here goes...

March 1900

Faith left me yesterday. She was moving to California to live with her aunt Minnie. On her last day in New York, we had our last "Goils Night Out," then cried for about an hour at the train station. "God, I'll miss ya," she gulped; dapping at her big blue eyes and brushed back her long blond hair. I couldn't find any words to say and remained in my usual silent state. I handed her a rather tattered book, the one I had read many times over- my favorite. In return she smiled gave me a beautiful painting of us sitting by the river, throwing rocks at the boys swimming in it. It was the best present I ever received. Why did she have to go? Of course, Aunt Minnie wanted to send her to a good school for girls and " help her leave the sham of a life as a newsgirl." Pfft.

"You'll find some other girl friends," mother said as I came home that night with my eyes swollen and a soaked handkerchief. No one could ever replace my Faith. I could never have a Faith-like conversation with anyone else.

I arose early so I wouldn't have to deal with the looks of pity from the others at the distribution center. Throw on some clothes, tie my hair, rush breakfast... I was off. And was too late.

"OH ROXIE!" Jinx yelled throwing her gangly arms around me. "WE'SE ALL SORRY 'BOUT FAITH LEAVIN' AND ALL."

Did she yell everything she said? Or was it just me? I know I met Faith through Jinx, but, wow, was that voice so irritating! "If you're depressed or something, you don't have to sell... ROXIE DARLING"

I cringed at the way Fang said my last name. I know for a fact that she hates my guts because I can sell five times as many papes as she could because she's oh-so busy being the town whore. Sad, but true: these were the people I was fated to be friends with for the rest of my life as a newsie. Am I being too negative? As I flipped through today's issue, HE walked by. Yes, Checks, Spot Conlon's best friend. Checks, the second in ranking. Checks, the most gorgeous person to ever walk the planet!

"Hey, Rox."

I gulped, feeling my vocal chords disappear.

How'd ya like it? Did it suck so badly? Sorry it's so short, but I'll have a longer one if you REVIEW!!! PLEEEEAAASE??? Btw: I don't own Newsies. Don't sure, for I am just a broke teenager.

**Author's Note from Chapter 8, May 14, 2007:** I leave this story alone for THREE years and _now _I choose to start it up again? What are the odds? In any case, I am _not_ ripping off the entirety of Megan McCafferty's series, but I _am_ still inspired by her works. Because I'm older and (hopefully) more mature, I think I can carry on a whole Newsies fic by myself, don't you think? I hope you all still sort of remember me! (I apologize for the horrendousness of the fic previously written, originally known as simply 'Life Sucks.')


	2. The Second Worst Newsie

I'M BAAAAACK! Didja miss me? (long silence) Guess not.  
  
Lots of love to my reviewers! *mwah* Here, have a cookie that says "Spot is Hot."  
  
Sorry I haven't updated in forever, my computer had this really bad virus and I was, um, grounded for a while, but it's over (for now).  
  
I hope y'all had a great holiday. I sure did. (YESH! THE POTC DVD IS MIIIIIIIINE!)  
  
Here's the next chappy! Enjoy.  
  
I managed to give Checks a tiny " good morning" and sighed. I have been in love with him ever since I began working 4 years ago when I was eleven. Faith finds this extremely funny and thinks there is something wrong with him. I scoffed at the idea. He is probably the most perfect man alive. (a/n With Orlando Bloom as an exception * giggle * ) Checks is just gorgeous- chiseled features, muscular, short blond hair that falls in his face in just the right way. Sigh.  
  
I am a horrible newsie. I can't sell for my life. I bought twenty papers and sat down to look for good headlines. That's the main reason why I suck at selling- I rely on headlines. I don't look for little fillers or twist the words around. Yellow journalism is already enough in New York.  
  
Of course, I'm not the worst seller. Fang would be the worst. It's probably because she has the attention span of a small rodent, or maybe it's because she's so busy being a streetwalker. ( It's only a rumor, but well, it's all too believable. )  
  
I stood near the bridge, hoping for a kindly old person to pity me and buy a pape. I tried my sickly orphan act, but that's another thing I suck at.  
  
Suddenly, an arm swung around me and I whipped around. It was Scotty, my ex- boyfriend, who still seems to like me. Jinx wasn't too far behind.. the little gossip whore.  
  
"Hey, Roxie, " he said, an arm still around me.  
  
I pulled away quickly, wishing he would go away. Sure, Scotty wasn't bad looking (alright, he's downright handsome), but every time I look at him, I can still feel that disgusting kiss that occurred one night . We were both thirteen, and Scotty, apparently, was trying to grow a beard and mustache. Ugh. Prepubescent Scotty. Ugh.  
  
My parents adore him. They'll even let him INTO MY ROOM. That's like saying "Go ahead, dear Scott. Go sleep with Roxanne. We don't mind." AHH! It is truly amazing that he still likes me. I'm not great looking. I have thick curly black hair, boring brown eyes, huge feet, and I'm really lanky.  
  
We were all eating at the usual diner when Jinx and Fang were obsessing over a new model in the magazine.  
  
"SHE'S SO DAMN SKINNY!"  
  
"I know, but her butt's huge."  
  
Then, Fanf poked me with her straw. "We should all be like Roxie heah."  
  
Not realizing what they were talking about, I took an enormous bite into my cheeseburger.  
  
"What?" I mumbled through the food. 


	3. MAIZE!

I'M BACK FOLKS!  
  
Disclaimer: Once again, I don't own Newsies. They belong to Disney, the lucky bastards. I don't exactly own the plot line; most of it belongs to Megan McCafferty.  
  
****  
  
When I got home that night, the Wedding Maniacs, my mother and Elizabeth, my older sister, who had been planning this "simple" wedding like there was no tomorrow, pounced on me.  
  
" TRY THIS ON!" Frizzy Lizzie snarled, shoving a hideous yellow gown in my face.  
  
I protested, " B-b-but, it's yellow!" (Which is another great example of my stupidity)  
  
"MAIZE!" the WM screamed.  
  
Reluctantly, I took the, erm, thing and marched into my room. I shrugged it on, only to see a frosted, frilly, lemon tart in the mirror before me. Suddenly, Elizabeth swung the door open and mom began sticking pins in the gown like I was a voodoo doll.  
  
"Oh dear," she tutted, " We'll have to take in the chest quite a bit." (Meh, no kidding)  
  
Once I was released, I marched into our kitchen/dining roon/den to see my father reading the paper.  
  
" There's nothin' good in the papes today, Dad"  
  
He looked over the paper and replied, " No? What about the cookie factory fire? Or the scandal at a Long Island restaurant?"  
  
GAAAAAAAAAAH! Even my own father can find better stories than I can!  
  
" You've really got to dig, honey. Peruse the paper. Delve in the words, Notso." ('Notso' as in Notso Darling. GET IT? Man, I hate my last name)  
  
I also really don't like how passionate my dad is about selling papers. I guess it's the former salesman in him. Well, duh.  
  
"So..." mom began with this grin," who's the lucky fella that you're bringing to Liz's wedding? Hmm?"  
  
I could so tell that she wanted me to say "Scotty," but I can hardly stand to say that buffoon's name any longer.  
  
"Umm.."  
  
"Just say it, stupid!" my conscience screamed in my ear.  
  
My entire family stared at me from different corners of our miniscule apartment. (And that's another thing- if we're able to afford this extravagant wedding, why am I a newsie and why are we living here?)  
  
"Is it dear Scotty?" she asked, in such an obvious way. Mary Darling was never good at acting nonchalant. Well, neither am I.  
  
"well,he'snotche-" I accidentally blurted out. (Told you so.) I slapped my hand over my big mouth as my family leaned in closer.  
  
I shook my head. "Forget it."  
  
"No! Tell us!" Liz insisted, dropping her sewing needle.  
  
What kind of sticky situation had I gotten myself into?  
  
****  
  
Please review! It's like your favorite newsie on your doorstep, proclaiming his undying love for you! Don't flame! It's like finding out your beloved newsie is either in love with someone else or is gay. (I don't mean to offend any homosexuals out there.) 


	4. Ah, Another Angstfilled Teenaged Girl

Hey there newsies and newsettes! I'se back wid anudder chappie of "Life Sucks!"  
  
But before I begin, I would just like to say that I took the Newsies Mary- Sue Litmus Test, and it scared me to death (okay, I'm exaggerating) because Roxie is almost a Mary-Sue. Or Mary-Sue-ish (For the record, although I do like the name Roxanne, I wouldn't want to be called Roxanne, or Notso. And I wouldn't particularly like my last name to be Darling... and I haven't really come up with her actual looks. Sadly.) I'm trying my best to make Roxie Darling as human and un-perfect as possible, without making her too horrid to stand. (Is that so wrong?)  
  
AND. As I'd like to say that I love all you who reviewed (Dudem, Electrodude, Kane, and Misery, Eire and Tag)!!! I'd also like to give one great big whopping SHOUT OUT to Relic! *hug* your reviews made me feel great!  
  
So, off we go with the fic!  
  
I sighed (a/n: AHH! I'm telling it in the first person too! Man! This is getting more Mary-Sue-ish by the minute!), wishing that my family would stop staring at me.  
  
My mother nodded eagerly. "Yes, Notso?"  
  
I gave another great sigh (Hmm, I seem to be doing that a lot nowadays) and grabbed my shawl-thing from the coat rack. "I'm leaving. I'm inviting Checks. There. Happy?"  
  
Slamming the door, hoping that it wouldn't fall off its hinges as well, I could faintly hear my father say, "But we're aren't for-"  
  
I ignored it, just like what any angst-filled fifteen-year-old would do, and stormed off onto the now-blustery Brooklyn, again like what any angst- filled fifteen- BAH. Forget it.  
  
With just my luck, I bumped into Jinx and her new beau, some gawky guy from the Bronx. Why she's gone from overly muscular to skinny-as-a-pole beats me. Not that I'm a finicky person (HAH! Like any male would go after me). I was just wondering about HER. You know what, I'm not going to talk about that anymore because it's confusing me.  
  
"ROOOOOOOOOOXIIIIIIIIE!" she shrieked, violently dragging the poor boy, " Oh my gawd, have you seen Fang? I need ta show her me new guy!" She gave him her best googly eyes. The Bronx guy just blushed. (Maybe he can actually stand listening to that voice of hers. Ah, I must stop with the negativity.)  
  
**** *sigh* That's all I've got for you now folks. Hope you like it! Sorry about the length. 


	5. HIM! or Roxie's Drunk

Gee whiz! Am I actually posting!? Golly!  
  
Everyone: Cheers  
  
LOVE TO THE REVIEWERS! LOT OF IT!! passes out-  
  
Spot: NO! MY LOVE PASSED OUT!  
  
gives him a strange look and continues to type "cookies"  
  
Spot: Oh. walks off to watch PP (lol Mis'!)  
  
Here goooooeees.. begins singing "I Should Tell You"...  
  
As I entered the dance hall with Jinx and the other dude, a strange thought came upon me... I SAID I WAS INVITING CHECKS!! OH MY GOD!  
  
Then, Faith-conscience popped into my head:  
  
"Go ask him, goil! You nevah act on an impulse! Leap before ya look dis time around!"  
  
"NO!" I yelled, frantically waving my hands in the air (and smacking Dude in the process... Oops)," I WON'T! THAT'S TOTALLY AGAINST CHARACTER!"  
  
Jinx and Dude (never got his name) looked at me like I had been talking to myself. (Oh, wait. I was. Never mind.) She placed a delicate hand on my forehead, feeling for a fever. (A/N: WHOO! ALLITERATION!)  
  
"YOU OK, HONEY?" Jinx whipped her head around, causing those bouncy curls to whack me in the face.  
  
"OUCH-I'm afraid so." (MONEY-ok, maybe not- to those who can figure out where that came from. EMILY AND TRACEY DON'T COUNT! But I still love them)  
  
She stuck out her bottom lip in what seemed to be a pout. "I know people, Rox. Sompin's on yer brain."  
  
I gave a great sigh and ended up spilling the entire dilemma to one of the people I would not usually say more than ten words to. And a random male stranger- Bronx Dude.  
  
"...So, that's my sob story."  
  
"I t'ink you betta go for it," she said, unusually soft, and positioned herself on the cushy seat next to her new man. Bronx Dude nodded in agreement.  
  
"I need to liquor up," I muttered, reaching across the table for a rather full bottle of beer, regardless of whose mouth had been on it.  
  
Bronx Dude raised his hand as it he was in a classroom. (Boy, is he polite, or what?) "Um, aren't we underage?"  
  
Jinx began giggling obnoxiously then plunked herself in his lap.  
  
I moved onto my third bottle as a figure passed by.  
  
"Hey cuz," a husky voice muttered in my ear, "dat's my beer."  
  
I slowly turned my head and found myself staring into these bright blue eyes, grinning at me. I gasped in spite of myself. (Which was rather odd, but then again I'M odd.) I was facing Spot Conlon.  
  
Ok, do, I've never actually talked to the guy, or been less than three inches from his face, but I was turning red and my pulse was racing. What IS it about him?  
  
"THAT WAS HIM!"  
  
No kidding.  
  
Too drunk to say anything to her.  
  
Later in the night, I found myself barreling around the tables, wrapping myself in curtains, and dancing wildly. All the damn beer got me all giddy and insane. It was almost sickening.  
  
I can't recall much, but this is what I remember.  
  
1. Plunking into Scotty's lap (???)  
  
2. Dragging Scotty to the dance floor.  
  
3. Dipping Scotty, then dropping him at the sight of HIM. (Checks, duh)  
  
4. Running to HIM.  
  
5. Proclaiming my undying love for HIM. (!!!) Ok, it was probably slurred so no one could translate what I said, but still.  
  
6. Puking in an alley with some unknown figure holding my hair back.  
  
7. Passing out.  
  
All I have to say about that is: WHAT HAVE I DONE????? 


	6. Complicated, Much?

Audience: ::cheer::

AAAAAAND, we're back, folks.  
  
Yet another installment of "Life Sucks!"  
  
Audience: ::cheer::  
  
I've finally gotten off my lazy buttocks and pulled up a chair to the computer to write another chapter.  
  
Audience: ::cheer::  
  
Spot: ::turns off Audience Button::rolls eyes::  
  
::pouts::  
  
HERE IT IS.  
  
I rolled over, groaning. My stupid head felt like there was a buffalo sitting on me. No, not a buffalo. An elephant. Yes. An elephant. Anyway, I sat up immediately, banging my head on the bunk above me, worsening the injury.  
  
"Whoa, there, Roxanne." Spot said, hearing the swearing coming out of my mouth. My eyebrows shot up upon seeing him sitting next to me.  
  
"Ok," I thought," don't panic. Let this be some deranged dream that you're about to wake up from. You're actually at home, snoring. You're-"  
  
"Stop starin' at me like dat," he snapped.  
  
"What? Oh, sorry," I replied, NOT PANICKING, even though I really wasn't sorry. I rolled up a sleeve, which was a feat considering that the shirt was two sizes too big for me. OK. Whoa. I'M WEARING A GUY'S SHIRT??? Now panicking... NOW PANICKING. "Um, yeah, thanks Spot. Bye." I grabbed my clothes off the hook and made a mad dash through the wash room and out the door.  
  
Did I ever tell you that I'm not very good in these types of situations? Because I've never been in any. Of these situations, I mean.  
  
I snuck through my window, wishing my dad would fix it so it wouldn't make that squeaky sound anymore. I prayed that my parents wouldn't notice the beer and mud stains all over my skirt and blouse.  
  
"NOTSO!" I cringed when I heard Liz's voice. "How was your sleepover with Jinx?" What did she say? "Sleepover with Jinx"?  
  
"Um, yeah. Great."  
  
"That Spot-boy came around to tell us. He's really cute! Are you two going together? Hmmm?"  
  
Subtleness was something the Darling family lacked, but you knew that already. I rolled my eyes." No," I replied stiffly.  
  
Frizzy Lizzie marched out of our room- SOON TO BE ONLY MINE!- and grumbled, "You could have at least entered through the door, ya know. Instead of scaring me half to death."  
  
_Please.  
_  
I sprawled out on the bed, thinking about the events of the past two days. I got drunk. "Danced" with Checks. Spot arranged for me to stay in the Brooklyn Lodging house. My parents actually bought the sleepover thing. And what did I do? I ran out on him, without a really proper thank you.  
  
You do know that things like this stick in my mind for, oh, FOREVER?  
  
I marched outside, now clean, neat, and with hangover. But that's ok.  
  
**"ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOXIE!"** Jinx screamed, closely followed by a glaring Fang. "YOU'LL NEVAH GUESS WHAT I HEARD LAST NIGHT AFTA YOUSE LEFT! YOU'LL NEVAH GUESS!"  
  
Um. No comment.  
  
Fang rolled her big blue eyes. "Skittery told Cowboy, who told Racetrack, who told Jazz, who told Jinx, who told me that...." She hesitated, almost smiling. God, I hate it when they do that. "He likes you."  
  
"WHO?"  
  
"Skittery!" both girls said in frustration. As if I understood them!  
  
"You're kidding me!" I yelled, blushing fiercely.

" Nope!"  
  
Thanks, Jinx and Fang, thanks a lot. You've got me turning this unsightly shade of red and there's one more thing to complicate my life even more.

WOW! That's longer than most! Review and I will love you forever!

Spot: That might not be a good thing.  
  
::smacks his head::


	7. The Gazebo of Solitude

(Author's ramblings at the bottom. I didn't want to get distracted, that's all... Oh, in the last chapter, I mentioned a newsie name Jazz. I don't own her. She belongs to her wonderful owner. [waves at Rouge Jazz])

**"YOU'RE KIDDING ME!"** I repeated, almost dropping all thirty of my papers.

"My gawd, Roxanne," Fang muttered, in her usual flat and bored tone, "we're not."

I opened my mouth to say something, but shut it and ran over to some selling spot by the harbor. To my surprise, and utter dismay, Scotty came bounding over minutes after.

"PLAGUE OF RABID RODENTS CAUSES SCHOOL FOR WOMEN TO CLOSE DOWN!" I screamed, standing on a bench. Maybe if I yelled bad headlines loud enough, he would go away. But, no, he didn't. Instead, he stood there, laughing at me.

"Where the hell did that come from?" he asked, with a stupid smile on his face.

"Where did YOU come from?"

Scotty looked confused for a moment, and then shrugged my random comment off in a typical Scotty-manner. "Look, I-"

I held a hand up to stop him for doing anymore talking. "Look, buddy, if Jinx and Fang sent you, then I suggest you drop the whole thing and walk away slowly, before my head explodes."

He opened his mouth, and then closed it a few times, bearing a resemblance to a goldfish... a goldfish a dinky mustache. Excuse me, but EW. "God, Rox, can you just go one day without biting my head off?" Those words came as a surprise to me.

I jumped off the bench to face him. "What?"

"You always snap at me or say something that makes me look or feel stupid." He looked like he was about to cry.

"Geez, I'm sorry, Scotty. I-"

Then, he started smiling... a really, really annoying smile. "OH, MY GOD! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU FELL FOR THAT, ROXIE! HAHAHAH!"

Did I mention that I have glare that can shoot daggers through your heart? One look at my face sent Scotty running far, far away. "DON'T THINK THAT FAITH DIDN'T TELL ME ABOUT YOUR 'NOW THAT YOU'RE GONE, ROXIE AND I WILL BECOME CLOSER' PLAN!!" I screamed after him.

**I marched all the way to the gazebo** in the tiny park behind my apartment building. I like to call it "The Gazebo of Solitude." Only kidding. It's just a place where I sit and ponder; happy to know that none of the other newsies know of this place... at least, that's what I thought.

"Why don't you head over with Jinx to Manhattan, Roxanne?"

I jumped upon hearing that. "SPOT?" I whipped around to face him. "You come here often?" All my words came out as a stage whisper. What is the point of stage whispering when you're, well, not on stage? I mean, really.

"Isn't that a lame pick-up line?" he smirked, sitting next to me. Really-close-next-to-me. Breathing-in-my-ear-next-to-me. PUTTING-HIS-ARM-AROUND-ME-NEXT-TO-ME. (I shifted back about a foot. He took that as a hint and took his arm off.) "I was people watching. Saw you come here... It's not just your place of thinking. So, yeah, I do come here often." Does he read minds, or something?

"Why do you want me to go with Jinx?" I asked quickly, changing the subject.

"Because," he leaned closer (AHHH!), "I know you have a thing for my best friend, here. He ain't right for you, Roxanne."

"Oh yeah?" I challenged him, "What makes you say that? Am I too young or something?"

Spot shook his head, furrowing his brow. "He's just-"He kinda stared at my face as if that answer was there. (Uncomfortable? YES.) "He's not who you think he is..."

"Whatever.."

"Besides, Skittery's a good kid. You'll be good for him." He said that all cheerfully.

I just blinked. "I don't believe you... What is so wrong about Checks?"

He threw his hands in the air. "You're impossible, you know that? I give up."

"That's what my parents say!" I called after him.

Surprisingly, he stopped and called back. "So, you wanna come with me to Swoozie's? I overheard Jinx telling Scotty to retrieve you. Might as well ask you now."

**Spot let me go in first, saying, "I have a goil, you know."** (Well, duh. Who didn't hear about Spot and Jazz? I guess with The Gossip Goils-Jinx and Fang- being there, you never know what will be said about you.)

"MY GAWD, ROXIE! WHY ARE YOUSE ALL RED?" Jinx screamed, grabbing my arm. She must have caught Spot passing us, with that smirk on his face and his eyes following me. "CONLON!"

"Oh, Christ." I muttered. "Jinx, no."

"No, goilie, I gots this.. CONLON!"

"Yes?"

"CONLON! WHAT ARE YA DOIN' TA MY FRIEND HERE? SHE'S AN INNOCENT GOIL! WHAT DA HELL'S YOUR PROBLEM?"

He shrugged carelessly. "Nothing. See ya, cuz." With that, he walked over to his usual table and pulled Jazz into his lap.

Knowing Jinx, she would drop the whole thing, but not for long. "Let's go!"

"B-b-but, I want to stay here?"

"Since when did you want to drink beer and hang around with these people?!"

"Since.. today?"

"I ain't buyin' dat. Now, let's GO!" It's amazing how a girl of her stature could drag a girl of my stature all the way to Manhattan.

**Author's Ramblings**: I don't own Newsies.. or bits and peices of the plot. And some names. Gee, I don't really own anything, now do I?

I've decided that this will be a mix between Sloppy Firsts and Second Helpings because it will be fun and I am a very lazy person. [smiles]

And, to those who have read the aforementioned books, I have a few things to say.

''= combo

Spot-Marcus Flutie

'Skittery' - Cal the Wedding dude and Len Levy

'Jinx' - Bridget and Sara

Fang-Manda

That's basically it. If you find more, please mention it in your review! And please DO review!


	8. And Then He Smiles

**Author's Note:** I leave this story alone for THREE years and _now _I choose to start it up again? What are the odds? In any case, I am _not_ ripping off the entirety of Megan McCafferty's series, but I _am_ still inspired by her works. Because I'm older and (hopefully) more mature, I think I can carry on a whole Newsies fic by myself, don't you think? I hope you all still sort of remember me! (I apologize for the horrendousness of the fic previously written, originally known as simply 'Life Sucks.')

* * *

So, there I was, letting little Jinx drag me all the damn way to Manhattan, hitching a ride on the back of a carriage. (For the record, I'm short, but she is _shorter_.) Jinx was an incredibly excitable creature and that certainly got on my nerves, though I didn't let on. I would never let on; she and Fang were the only pseudo-friends I had in this borough. Pathetic, I know, but Faith was my, well, soul mate. I know that term is typically used to describe two people in love, but we just_ fit_, you know? Finishing each other's sentences and all that. With Jinx and Fang, it was more of interrupting my sentences with a squeal or a yell.

Anyway, the whole ordeal was ridiculous, to be perfectly honest. I really had no problem with Skittery; he was a good kid, tall, not bad looking at all, and occasionally temperamental, but that, I suppose, was a part of his charm. We were greeted with a wide wave from Racetrack, who then beckoned a few others over for a full Manhattan salutation. "'Ey! Ladies! What brings you two over to our humble part a' town?" he asked, wriggling his eyebrows in a suggestive manner. Oh, he knew. I think the whole of New York City knew at this point- how gossip spreads so quickly, I shall never know.

"Um," I said eloquently, "well, I- I- I-"

While I stammered to get a full sentence out, Racetrack had slung a friendly arm around Jinx's shoulders and they started off without me, expecting me to follow. And, I scurried after them, holding my skirts in fisted hands, hopping over puddles. Most hated how the city looked after the rains, but I didn't. As the two chatted, probably discussing me and Skittery in an unusually business-like manner, I guess I lost control and hopped right _into_ a puddle, letting out a squeal.

"Steady on, Rox," said a low voice from behind. I whipped around to see Skittery standing there, hands fiddling with his suspenders, the pink of his long johns visible from under his plaid button-up shirt. And that _grin_. Holy Toledo, how did I miss that wonderful sheepish _grin_? He lifted his cap to run a hand through mousy brown hair, and, honestly, all I could do was gape at him. GAPE. Oh, and there went that heart fluttery thing within me, and that throat tighten-y thing, and that inarticulate thing.

Well, I'll be a monkey's uncle.

I think I like him too.

* * *

Jinx and Racetrack, I guess, had gotten a little caught up in their conversation and had wandered away, probably to the tracks, or something; those two were easily distracted, after all. This left me to fend for myself in the new world of teenage romance, or something to that effect. Skittery, how was I not aware of your adorableness?

"I guess you heard the news," he started with the shrug of his thin shoulders, fingering the change in his pocket. (I'm assuming that it's change here, unless he carries jewelry around?) Peering a little closer, I could see the blush creeping onto his cheeks, and I suddenly became worried. Was he embarrassed? Oh, god, he probably was- I mean, I'm not exactly Miss New York Bombshell, I'm not even close to, what's her face, Cowboy's girlfriend!

"Uh, yes," was my well-expressed reply. After a moment, I took a breath and continued (on that same breath, mind you), "Yes, I think it's really great that you like me and everything, because I think I like you too, but if you don't want to be, you know, together, then I completely understand now that I have just made a complete fool of myself in front of you."

Instead of the expected look of horror, there was a look of amusement on Skittery's face and he took a small step forward, careful to avoid the puddle that had soaked the edges of my skirts. "Nah, you didn't," he said simply. Ah, a man of few words- he balances me out, I think. But, ahh, I'm getting way ahead of myself, here.

Like the idiot that I am sometimes, I blurted out: "When did you decide that you liked me?"

With a wider grin, he responded with, "We got into a little discussion the other night at Medda's an' girls came up o' course." He winked and I swear to God, I nearly melted. "Several names came up an' I just… I mentioned you." He took to jingling the change in his pocket while I stood there, grinning moronically.

'And so the gossip chain began," I said in quiet tones, taking a smaller step towards him. I felt so incredibly giddy at the prospect of a guy actually liking _me_ and not pretty Jinx or seductive Fang or charming Faith or _any_ other girl for that matter. _Me_. He liked _me_, the quirky smartass from Brooklyn. During this whole revelation, I had forgotten completely about how the water was slowly creeping up my skirt until I reached down to grab it. I scrunched the wet material with my fingers and cringed. "I need to dry off," I added suddenly, turning red. He probably thought I was some little kid, jumping into puddles and all.

"Hey, let's go to Tibby's, there's a fireplace there," he suggested, grabbing my hand and breaking into a run. I made a grab for my skirts again in an attempt to keep up with his long strides, trying to bring myself back home, on the ground, from my daze.

Oh, how one smile can change the mind of a girl.


End file.
